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No-one had seen her sneak down to the Officers' deck one Sunday night. She'd crept down after prayers given by the Captain to all his men and had been able to leave quite quickly as she was near the quarterdeck. It was James's turn for the limes, so once she had been given her ration and had quickly given them to him, Cicely decided to forego supper choosing to allow Heald, Nagels's other accomplice, to pursue her across the mess, where he was waylaid by Warley, who engaged him in conversation.

She was sure it was getting worse; James mentioned in passing, when they swapped shifts that powderboys were talking about similar acts of thievery, which had caused her to feel indignant. But she put it to the back of her mind now as she approached the door; shafts of grey light outlined the door in the failing light and the stench of rotten meat wafted along the corridor.

What she had been the worst now was the sheer amount of energy needed to carry out such a demanding job. It wasn't surprising the Captain cared about their wellbeing and strength for he needed as much brawn and muscle to carry out the jobs that a lad like her, like Robert Young, would be a poor return for his valuable food ration. Which is why she was creeping carefully towards the Doctor's cabin.

If she was caught, she reasoned, she could just say she was looking for him; that she had toothache. No sailor would invent such a tale as the removal of a tooth, like everything here was crude and brutal.

Cicely put her hand on the cabin handle, twisting the iron latch at the centre and leaning on the oak. It opened easily and she scurried in, closing the door behind her and standing with her back to it. Her eye caught the chest in which the doctor had pulled the bottle of laudanum a week ago, which had made her drowsy and taken away every last ache.

She looked at the bottle momentarily before putting its squat neck to her lips, taking a small sip and dampening her lips. Cicely had heard many horror stories about the medicine, and she knew it could be like grog – it made you want it and need it.

Since she had been given it by the doctor, three weeks ago she had resolved determinedly that she would not think of its relieving effects however following their arduous toil in the hot sun as well as the captain's insistence they mastered the ropes the thought of her aches melting away had decided for her.

Cicely looked around the cabin momentarily. The doctor was astute, she knew, and would realise some had gone so she replaced the bottle back in the chest, making sure she replaced the cork ineffectively, so some of its contents would leak.

Placing the trunk back down on the wooden planks, Cicely froze as she heard footsteps above her. The ship's crew had finished suppering, she realised, so the night crew were about to begin their shift and day to retire to the crewdeck.

Just as she was about to open the Doctor's door, she heard voices which were getting louder. Someone was coming this way.

"I realise the significance of your course of action, Jack," she heard the Doctor say, "but I really do believe you should consider the effects upon –"

If they find me in here, Cicely's mind raced, I'll say…yes…toothache. They would take pity on a humble illiterate thing like Robert Young, and I would vow never to repeat the transgression…

"We need to take on supplies; there is no two ways about it."

"And the men?"

"If you are implying Stephen that I would deliberately endanger the crew…"

"Not in the least, however it is my opinion that you should release from the Service that which would not suit your purpose then I am wholeheartedly behind you." Cicely looked at the door latch, and saw it moving down. She held her breath as the two men continued to converse.

"This evening then," she heard the Doctor say. "Allow me to leave this in my cabin, and I shall be to the foredeck immediately."

In the darkness, Cicely's heart sank. He was going to ask what she was doing there, maybe even smell the foul medicinal liquid. The door opened, and she huddled behind it as Stephen Maturin, dressed in his daywear strode in and lay a pile of papers and a bag on the desk, before turning round.

Cicely looked down, her heart thumping in her chest. She was just about to speak when she felt the door next to her close as the doctor made his way out.

He hadn't seen her! The dread within changed immediately to elation as she heard his footsteps retreat along the corridor. That was far too close, she thought as she herself stepped out, and made her way towards the crewdeck above vowing to herself she would never do it again.

Minutes later she was sitting amongst the salts, swigging their grog ration and endeavouring to rest before their next shift began. They sat in groups under the stars, on rails and stairs; cross-legged on planks or leaning by the railings.

She sat next but one to Old Joe, a sailor nearly fifty years' old and as the night breezes swept over the deck he described the surgery he had just received from the doctor.

"Fifteen stitches, right enough," he told her, pointing towards his forearm. "On a lanyard spike near the stern. Took 'im a minute a stitch, Young," he added, looking down and giving her a nudge. "

And this 'ere," he held up his chin to show Cicely scars running from his chin down his throat, "was when I were cleaning the larboard side of the ship an' the rope caught round me neck. So I reckon you should stick with us crew on the Surprise 'ere, so that when you first come for a Burton, you'll have the best surgeon in His Majesty's navy to look after yer."

"Yes, sir," said Cicely meekly. She had learned too that older sailors preferred to feel as if they were giving advice, so she took it with grace and decided not to argue. As it was, a little thought reminded her as she glanced across to the group of sailors where Nagel was sitting, she had already come for a Burton and the doctor had looked after her.

However if what she had heard the captain saying was correct and they needed to get supplies that they may be docking soon, she could approach Edward and they could desert the ship together.

"'ere," said Chell, joining Joe and Cicely. "'e's not showing you 'is battle wounds, is 'e?" Cicely looked at Joe.

"'e means me battles with the ship," laughed Joe heartily. "Never 'ave I 'ad as much trouble aboard 'ere as any others. Been in more trouble with this lady Surprise than any other lady, wooden or otherwise." He laughed again, and Chell, a foremasthand, joined him.

"'tis my fortune to have served with the Captain most me life though," continued Joe, "'an we seen many a war together." Cicely smiled. She knew where this was heading. Like many sailors Joe's age, sailors liked to tell their tales of adventure, bravery and courage so she anticipated the tale that was to come…

…and was nearly taken aback when he revealed the name of the hero of the story who had sailed with…this man with two others who were salts under Lucky Jack's first command, the Harriet, had jumped ship and taken a rowing boat to Cadiz. They spent three days dressing as Spaniards, in an effort to convince the French authorities that although they were English, they were Catholics wishing to fight for Napoleon.

Their disguise completely took in the French, who gave them in return for their honour the exact specifications and number of the French navy in the port, which they then took back to Captain Aubrey. With the information, he was able to hold a small portion of the port with other naval vessels before Nelson's fleet entered and successfully passed through the Straits of Gibraltar. It would seem that without this, the Victory would never have made it to the north coast of Egypt to fight the battle of the Nile, with which the Harriet, under Aubrey fought successfully.

But Cicely's heart was still racing when she heard the name. The Frenchman who had passed on the information had done so to John Fotherington! Surely it must be the same man who helped her gain acceptance aboard the Surprise almost a month ago. And despite all that, he was too old now to be acceptable to serve.

"Three cheers for Lucky Jack and his crew!" cheered Dan Cooper, who had also sidled over to hear the story.

"Aye," called another man. "Three cheers for the Captain." Cicely joined the cheer too, feeling proud to have met John Fotherington.

She spent the next hour listening to the stories of the men as the evening wore on, joining in a chorus or two of "London Bells a'calling" and watching a couple of them tell a story using a worn set of playing cards, showing how it could also be thought of as the bible, with four Apostles, 52 books and so on (gambling was forbidden aboard on a Sunday.)

This gave her time to decide how to approach Edward and tell him she was still alive. If she had not been thinking of her brother she would have noticed Heald shift over to Nagel and whisper something in his ear, which made the man fix his stare on Robert Young.

Though her absent mind was totally lost on thoughts of her brother, her conscious mind heard the tolling of the warning bell. She looked around as the sailors, who had until then been relaxed and carefree, rise and become alert at the sound.

"Four bells," said one of the men. "Does that mean we've got it behind us again?" There was mumbling amongst the men, and they shuffled towards the edge of the ship, looking into the darkness.

"What have we got behind us, Joe?" asked Cicely quietly, as the man moved with the others.

"The Phantom," said Joe. "A ship, behind us almost a month ago, just before we stopped in Sao Paolo. Faster'n us and bigger. One minute was behind us, and the next, t'was on top of us."

"Ar," said Bonden, who was close to them both in the group, "the Phantom, as bringin' us all bad luck, isn't that so, Warley?" The other sailor looked at Bonden, and whispered back: "It's not the ship, Bonden, you know who it is, bringing us bad luck aboard."

Just then, Midshipman Donnelley approached the men and addressed them.

"We are alerted," he said, as they turned with respect whilst he spoke. "It is likely that you will be asked to join your pair on duty shortly."

"It's 'im!" An undisguised whisper emanated from the back of the crowd once the officer had departed. "'e's done it again!"

Who? Done what? thought Cicely, and the crowd parted. In the centre of the group stood Nagel.

"Old Joe," he said, having gained the crowd's attention, "you told us all this evening that you have never had such misfortune. We 'ave 'ad our men dying of illnesses as we crossed the Capricorn, The Acheron finding us now, don't you see, that's another of 'is doings?"

The men continued to talk amongst themselves, nodding in agreement.

"What?" asked Cicely to Bonden, who was still standing next to her. "Who does he mean?"

"Hollum," said Bonden simply. Cicely said nothing. Edward?

She knew he was not popular amongst the crew; his lack of natural leadership was unfamiliar to them. But this was just superstition! They must know he couldn't be responsible, and that it was just fate.

Her heart began to beat faster and she knew what she had to do: find Edward and tell him she was alive. Tell him she was here and they could make plans to leave. Her mind raced at the thought; how would he react? Here she was going to inform him she was his sister.

Cicely took a few steps towards the staircase where the middies would be receiving orders from one of the officers. That was, until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Joseph Nagel tightened his grip as she struggled.

"Get off!" she yelled, trying to shake him free.

"Bunking off work again, mewling like a kitten to the doctor that the work is too hard? Tell me that isn't why you went looking for the doctor tonight!" He turned to Pizzy, who began to laugh, and she glanced just behind him and saw Heald.

"We know of your plans, young Young, make no mistake," Nagel continued, smarmily. "And I must inform you that Mr Fillings went without his fruit this evening." He pushed her up against the mast bedding, and she stumbled back. Nagel picked her up bodily, looking over his shoulder and laughing towards his cronies.

"How dare you!" Cicely was shocked to hear the words coming from her own mouth. The indignation she had felt for his bullying ways had been tipped when she had heard him speak of her beloved Edward and she could feel anger welling in the pit of her stomach.

Nagel turned back and stared at her, then she saw him raise a fist, bringing his arm back. All at once the anger overcame her. Cicely had never hit anyone in her life, well not counting a young man into whom she had naively put her trust in London, and even then, it was no more than a slap.

Now, she raised her right arm, and swung it back, without thinking; or rather thinking how this would solve her rising anger and frustration with the situation, of her miserable condition made worse because of him and his lies stemming from his own disrespect of Edward: she wanted to make Joseph Nagel sit up and take notice.

As he reeled back from his own failed blow hand flailing in the air, her arm struck his collar bone, and he went flying backwards. She looked at the man, now on his back, and she stepped aside towards the hatch realising that every man of the crew were around them, looking between her and Nagel.

Nagel opened his eyes and stared at her; a trickle of blood running from his forehead which he dabbed at quickly as he got to his feet. Her blood ran cold: she had hit him. What was he going to do now?

"Stand aside here!" Lieutenant Pullings spoke loudly to the men as he analysed the situation. He looked at Cicely and she felt two hands on her shoulders.

"Robert Young, you are hereby under arrest for assaulting a sailor in His Majesty's Royal Navy."

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"Young, do you have anything to say for yourself?" Captain Aubrey sat behind his desk in his cabin, flicking his quill pen as he sat behind his leather-top desk. Cicely shifted between her feet and looked down.

She was guilty of the crime, whatever anyone had to say about it. She had lost her temper when she was about to be attacked herself, and took out her frustrations in an ill-timed jab. Cicely continued to hang her head: she had not slept last night since she was taken to the dungeon cell in the very bowels of the ship by Pullings and the two Royal Marines, who had manhandled her into manacles.

She felt embarrassed at being brought to the Captain of all people, and being present before him in his own cabin still filthy and dishevelled and angrier now with herself than she had ever been at Nagel for allowing herself to be brought to his attention.

"N…n…" she stammered, still looking down. Aubrey got up from behind his chair. Cicely refused to lift her gaze from the floor.

When she was told he had requested to see her, this did not surprise her. The type of captain he was showed that he was fully involved with his crew, and did not delegate responsibility to his lieutenants, as many other captains did. Perhaps this was the reason he was so well-loved.

"I understand from Lieutenant Pullings that you did not resist arrest." He walked over to her and raised her face so he was eye level to her, and Cicely glanced at the Lieutenant who had retrieved her this morning and brought her to see the Captain; his face expressionless and remote.

"That's better," he said in more gentle a tone. "Now, I don't believe from what I have seen of you so far, Young, that you would deliberately attack a messmate. Nor were you drunk because as I understand it from Dr. Maturin you are of an intolerant religion." Cicely nodded, but still said nothing.

She had decided that, following the possible sighting of the Acheron the previous night, and now her situation, to reveal herself to Edward would be unwise: indeed it would seem that many aboard agreed with Nagel, and if they were to know she was a woman, their suspicions would be confirmed. He would be blamed for the ill-luck because of her, his sister's presence. Therefore for her plan to work, she still needed Robert Young. Whatever punishment he decides she thought, I will take.

"Hm-hm" coughed Aubrey, walking over to Pullings. "Did you say in fact that you saw Young strike Joseph Nagel, or was he on the deck when you saw him?" Pullings glanced at Cicely.

"He was on the deck," said the lieutenant, "however two of the men notified the marines of the incident, and they notified me."

"I see," said the Captain, looking Cicely up and down. "Indeed. This is a very sorry business, Young; I've been assessing your skills and ability as a mizzenlad, and believe you to be most capable. I would ask Lieutenant Pullings," he gestured towards Cicely, and Pullings strode towards Cicely, "to escort you outside. I need to decide on the most appropriate punishment. You understand that such a crime usually fetches a lashing?"

Cicely looked up sharply, trying to hide her look of alarm. If that were to happen, her secret would of course be discovered. Pullings took her by the shoulder and turned her round, opening the door to escort her out.

"Ah, Stephen," said Aubrey, as Cicely stepped aside for the doctor to pass. "Do come in." The doctor glanced at Cicely, and she looked briefly into his eyes; pale green bounded by black lashes. Pullings shut the door behind them.

"Wait there," he said firmly, and walked away. Cicely stood with her head down. There was no doubt about it; her beloved brother's reputation would be ruined because of her hot-headedness. Perhaps it would have been better to have married William Howard, first Lord of Cambridge, that big oaf of a man, and have her spirit crushed than to have to endure Edward's sorrow.

"Young." She looked up. Edward was standing before her, his beautiful features outlined by the shadows of the morning sun.

Why was he here? Why did he torment her so? Cicely tried not to look at him, as was the custom, and saluted him, before looking down. Do you know how close you are to your dear sister, Edward? she thought, concentrating on a knot-hole just by her right foot. You are pained because you thought I'd died. But I didn't! I'm here!

"I have just spoken to Fillings," he said, his voice softening, as if trying to break good news gently to a young child. "He has informed me as to the extent of the situation of…" he stopped. Voices were raised in the cabin.

"…and this is common practice, Jack? I do not believe that any Service should condone any treatment of - …"

"…mistake to have brought him aboard. He is far weaker than any I have had in the service…"

Edward glanced and Cicely, before knocking on the cabin door.

"What? Yes?" The captain yelled irritably through the door. "Who is it?"

"Er, if you please, sir," said Edward. "Midshipman Hollum, sir."

There was a scraping of a chair across wood and some shuffling.

"Come, Hollum." Cicely watched out of the corner of her eye as her brother went in, and closed the door behind him before dropping her head back to the knot-hole. A couple of minutes later the door opened again. The doctor opened it, and looked at Cicely.

"The Captain would like to see you now, Young," he said, holding open the door, and he closed it behind him after she walked in. Edward was standing by the table, and the captain behind it.

"Before I say anything regarding your punishment, Young, Mr Hollum has brought to my attention a serious issue, something to which I have to admit I have not noticed. Is it true that men aboard this ship have been taking yours and others' rations?" Cicely looked at Edward. James, she thought, you fool. Those men you have betrayed will never let you rest for this.

She looked at the captain and nodded. The doctor let out a "hmph" of indignation. The captain looked at him, and then back at Cicely.

"This does somewhat colour the water, Young," he said, stepping over towards the doctor. "You are dismissed, Mr. Hollum," he added, and Edward saluted, before pacing over the planks oak planks. The captain stared at Cicely for a moment, before getting up from behind his desk.

"You have endured this for how long?" This time, it was the doctor who spoke to her. She turned to look at him.

"If..if you please sir," she stammered, Cicely Hollum now, not just the dim-witted Robert Young she was pretending to be. "For three weeks, sir."

"And did they take all your food every sitting?" The captain looked at the doctor. Cicely paused.

"N..not at first, sir. They took my fruit. The limes. Then they would take all of it, sir." She looked at Aubrey.

"However, this does not excuse your crime, Young," he said sternly.

"I…I will take the punishment, sir," she said meekly, dropping her head and biting her tongue hard. She longed to tell the Captain he was wrong about Edward, and that to allow such shaping up as she had endured to pass blindly was a failing on his part. The captain stood up.

"There will be none this time, save your making up your hours lost to us through your imprisonment today. Let this is your warning, Young. You have sailed close to the wind, and I believe you were provoked enough by this. I guarantee this ceases now, every man's ration is his own. Please take the time you need to become ship-shape, but remember, it is added to your work time. I will see to it that Mr. Mowett is informed of this."

"Stephen," he said, addressing the doctor. "Would you be good enough to find Pullings? I would be grateful if we would were to continue earlier our conversation at another time. Oh, and could you ensure that you would examine Young, for signs of malnutrition? I will organise other men to be sent along once I know which have been deprived of their ration also."

"Oh, Young," said the Captain, chuckling a little as if for his own amusement, "you may be still young, but on a ship's diet, I expect to see you now grow into a fine strapping example of a man."

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"I do not feel unwell, sir," she said for the time since Dr Maturin began his examination of her for signs of malnutrition. "Tired…sometimes."

"On the contrary, Young, you do not appear to be growing as expected. You are what, fifteen?" She nodded.

"Yet on Service rations, on your old ship, you should be at least stronger and bigger now." She looked at the doctor, who narrowed is eyes in that same analytical way he had done before after her toughening up by Nagel three weeks ago.

"You are…" he held out the string that he had got her to stand on just now, next to a measure stick, "five feet four inches. Chest," he held his arms out horizontally, indicating that Cicely should do the same, then looped the string found her back, meeting it at her front.

"Twenty eight inches," he picked up a pencil, and on the page with the crew details on, where Cicely had copied George Taylor's details into her own. He wrote down her height and chest, glancing back at the entry.

"Hmm," he said, shaking his head. "This doesn't seem quite right. However," he said, looking at her closely. "You'll be as right as rain before the week is out, mark my words"…

…and to his word, she was. Cicely went back to her duties, hard and long toil that day, and that evening, she was welcomed back amongst her crewmates as one of them. Bonden slapped her on the back that night, telling her he would have done the same thing and even Nagel bobbed his head when she joined them. It would seem that as the Captain's word was law, and he had seen fit not to punish her, then she was one of them again.

Yes, she thought that evening, as the wind turned chillier and the gloom drew in. Camaraderie is necessary here. They were about to round the Horn before they took on supplies and even if they got to the south seas in one piece, it would take a lot of all their strength.